When flowers bloomed.
There was a time when I was whole.
When flowers bloomed.
That was before the shatter
when I was scattered.
Pieces of flesh marred the landscape
there was no escape I was told.
I journeyed on high close to the sky
to see what lie below.
Keeping my distance from the misery of the deep.
Voyeuring upon the scene.
Thinking from this abode there is salvation
in this station.
But slowly ever so slowly
tortures of the oppressor
climbed, creeped setting there barb.
Yet trying to strive higher playing with esoteric fire.
With no desire to free the past of its chains
for a fear held so dear
there was so much pain.
Cleansing my soul
repenting sins of old I was told.
Repent and confess
feeling all at once stuck on a wheel
nauseous with fear.
Noxious waves of guilt and shame
with only me to blame.
The cycle went on and on.
Walking a narrow bridge across the universe
awaiting the fall the end of it all.
With no choice of my own
descent rushed upon me
from the height of my lulled solitude
where I had moped and groped among the stones of the heart.
Reaching into the dark for the child lost and frightened
I was enlightened.
So pure yet scared we embraced the ones
knowing of the great journey ahead
and dangers abound.
To climb not the mountain of mist and confusion.
The path we take is of one and the now.....
